Endgame
by Bifflechips
Summary: A semitrue story of how the final battle of Baldur's Gate once occurred, complete with dialogue and fun! But seriously, though, we're all doomed!


Both oak doors of the ancient Bhaalist temple were wide open, and only the faintest of candlelight could be seen within the room. The warrior, Bjorn, stopped the entire group outside the temple. This was it. Bjorn could feel it. But it wasn't like some kind of gut instinct or hunch, but much deeper. His heart pounded in his chest from the tension his soul was giving him. Sarevok was close. His soul... and his stepbrother's soul... were close. His.. soul... His Bhaal essence... the voice deep inside his head, urging him to claim his brother's life and take his power for himself an--

No! No! While Bjorn was no great beacon of morality, he knew that submitting to what the Bhaal essence wanted was purely evil and only fed it and made it stronger. All he could do was resist with the best of his wills, with the lessons his foster father Gorion had taught him. Gorion... the letter that Gorion had left him after he died... it explained everything. The nightmares. The urges to kill and lose himself in that bloodshed.

The letter had first opened with saying that if he was reading it, Gorion had no doubt lost his life. The the letter went on to tell the story of the Time of Troubles, a time when gods were made flesh and forced to walk the face of Toril. One such diety foresaw his own death during the Time of Troubles, and left a score of mortals across the breadth of the land, so that they would be the fuel for his rebirth. The god was Bhaal, Lord of Murder, and Bjorn and Sarevok were his children. Still... the only thing Bjorn did not understand was why Sarevok was trying to start a war between the city of Baldur's Gate and the country of Amn down south. Perhaps... he intended to bring Bhaal back? But, if that were so, why wou--

"Your recklessness will get us ALL killed, diminutive one. I swear, your stupidity will be your doom," urged Xan, the gloomy, depressed elf mage.

"You cup-shot mutton-head! Tiax will slap you silly... when he rules!" shouted the delusional gnome, who believed that his dark god, Cyric, had destined him to rule the world. Right now, Tiax was waving his clay pipe at the purple-robed mage.

"I doubt that. No doubt I shall be killed before such an event will happen," muttered Xan.

"Pfeh! You hope to escape the inevitable rule of Tiax by dying?!?... Coward," sneered Tiax.

"A careful coward I may be, but even I may live a little longer than you."

"That's it. You are not worth Tiax's insults, but his fists will do the diplomacy now!" said Tiax, throwing his tan-colored derby hat to the ground, and pulled up his fists to fight.

A woman's strong hand pushed Tiax by his head, throwing him to the ground. "Shut your mouths, both of you, or I'll have to take something you may not want to lose," said Shar-Teel, the silent, man-hating warrior. She had her sword already unsheathed, ready to cut Tiax down if his behavior continued. Tiax stood up, and dusted off his red tunic, but said nothing more. Xan just stood there, looking at the ground, depressed. Thank the Gods for Shar-Teel. A bitch she may be, but she could silence any man.

"Lighten up, Xan. Remember how wonderful and glorious life is?" said Garrick, the starry-eyed happy-go-lucky bard. Of everyone amongst his group, Garrick's naive and light-hearted attitude towards everything always surprised Bjorn. No matter how many bandits, poisonous giant spiders, skeletal undead, and scheming armored men named Sarevok they were up against, his attitude never changed.

"When you learn how pointless life is, you'll be able to divine the same truth I already know," said Xan.

"Yer death be closer than ye think if ye keep goin' on about how miserable life be," said Montaron, the scruffy halfling thug, pointing his short sword at the elf. "Enough of it, ye hear! I be surrounded by idiots and madmen!"

"Oh Monty! You don't really mean that! Gimme a hug!" screeched Xzar, the necromancer with a rather tenuous grasp on reality, in a rather quasi-feminine voice and reaching to hug the halfling.

"No! Git away from me! I'll gut ya, wizard!" Montaron leaped away as quickly as possible, reaching out of the mage's grasp just in time.

"Now, now, Monty. You sure can be mean."

"Aye, I can, and you'd do well to remember that. Now leave me be, lest you find that ye'll not wake up in the morn."

"Monty... Do you think we'll have children one day?" asked Xzar quite innocently, staring up at the ceiling of the Undercity.

"CHILDREN? What in the Nine Hells are ye talkin' about?"

"Calm down, Monty. You musn't be so testy," said Xzar, patting Montaron on the head.

"I'M NOT TESTY!" shouted Montaron, flailing his arms to push Xzar's hand away, accompanied by snickers from Shar-Teel and Garrick.

Xzar and Montaron were both Bjorn's first allies on this journey to stop Sarevok, and it's been a long journey, consistently receiving threats from Montaron and putting up with Xzar's random, incoherent outbursts about such random subjects as evil rabbits. On another note, with Montaron's obvious hatred for the mad mage, Xzar seemed to love him and affectionately called him Monty at every opportunity. No doubt the only reason that Montaron never acted on his threats against Xzar was no doubt the fact that the two were forced to work together by the powerful organization they worked for, the Zhentarim.

Bjorn faced the last member of his group, the militant Man-versus-Nature Shadow Druid Faldorn. The only reason she was in the group was to help stop Sarevok. The Iron Throne that Sarevok had been a part of was destroying the forests, and Faldorn was sent to stop them for their trespass. She pretty much hated everything about the group she traveled with, and was only in it to serve her perverse cause of nature. You see, Shadow Druids live on the principal to stop all civilization, or as Montaron so eloquently put it "to destroy everythin' that had been created so we can all go back to eatin' dirt and sticking food in every open orifice". She and Montaron, obviously, did not get along.

Yes. That was his entire group. Madmen and idiots, to be blunt. There was no way that this ragtag group would be able to band together to defeat Sarevok, right?

"Hey," said Bjorn. The rest of the group stopped their petty squabbling, and turned towards the man that had led them on this journey up and down the Sword Coast.

"This is it. I need to know... I need to know if you will all stay this until the end. What say you?" asked Bjorn, regarding the faces of each person. Blank stares and silence, and for a moment, Bjorn wondered whether he was speaking in an ancient Netherese language.. Then they all seemed to speak at once.

"This Sarevok is in the way of Tiax's destiny!" "I have a duty to the Oak Father. Of course." "This armored fella's sided with the rabbits, I know it! We'll have to pluck out his eyes to kill him!" "While I believe we delude ourselves to think we can stand up to Sarevok, I'll not walk away now, even in the face of my own doom." "Another man... another duel." "I agree with the mad wizard. 'Bout plucking his eyes out that is!" "Every tale needs an ending. And a minstrel to tell it... So... once more onto the breach, dear friends!"

Bjorn wasn't sure they were all saying yes, but he didn't have time to argue or plead anyone to stay now. He turned and slipped into the darkness, hoping that everyone had followed him in.

The temple was massive. It looked even bigger on the inside than could fit. Bjorn has once read about buildings with such enchantments, where even the most peasantly hovel carried a grand palace inside. Columns, lined with candles, stood the lengths of both walls to his right and left. Bjorn's gaze turned to the ground, where the symbol of Bhaal, a giant, golden skull encircled by a counterclockwise orbit of drops of blood. Then Bjorn's view turned to the other side of the temple. Or rather a statue that appeared to shift suddenly.

Standing on a dais, was an armored figure armed with a gigantic sword that he hadn't even noticed amidst the dark room, but that which he was familiar with. The sharp horns on the helm, the number of spiked adorning the armor, and the devastatingly fearsome height at which he stood gave it away. Sarevok. Bjorn froze, despite the fact that Sarevok was a good thirty paces away. A faint mumbling could be heard coming from him. And nothing happened. Bjorn squinted his eyes, and saw that Sarevok was actually facing the wall ahead of him. Did he even know that Bjorn and his group were there? But he must have. If Bjorn's Bhaal essence could feel if another was near, no doubt Sarevok could as well.

Regardless, Bjorn crept over to behind one of the columns more out of instinct and fear rather than a conscious thought to hide. He could hear the soft footsteps behind him, and his heart beat a little slower, knowing his allies were so close. He turned to face his companions, all of their faces looking to him to decide the future course of action.

"Okay, Sarevok is right there, and he seems to be alone. However, we shouldnt give him the benefit of the doubt. No doubt he has allies hidden somewhere nearby," whispered Bjorn.

"Perhaps the we could summon some bestial servants to distract him," said Faldorn, pointing fingers at the spellcasters, Xzar and Xan, as well.

"That would work," said Montaron. "And in the confusion, I could take a swig from this invisibility potion and perhaps get a good stab at his back flank when he's not looking."

"Excellent idea, Monty. I can even speed up your movements so that you can get away quicker if need be," muttered Xzar. It's strange, seeing the man spouting about rabbits one second and being entirely sane the next.

"You and I can take the front lines," suggested Shar-Teel behind the crowd of heads in Bjorn's vision. That's when Bjorn noticed something strange.

"Wait. Not all of us are here."

"Yes there is... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7, you. We're all here," said Garrick, pointing to each one.

"There's 8 of us."

"Oh no," squeaked Faldorn, looking from behind the column. The rest of the group poked their heads around the column to see. It was the gnome, Tiax, walking up to Sarevok. He was holding onto his clay pipe in one hand, and an iron mace in the other.

"You! Cyric has demanded Tiax to have a word with you!" shouted Tiax, pointing the mace at him and stopping just before the symbol of Bhaal.

Every metallic step that Sarevok made to turn around made Bjorn shudder. Even mad Tiax jumped in anxiety at each step. He still couldn't get over how massive Sarevok was. His helmet only complimented the intimidation of his size all the more. It appeared to be a demon's head, with an open maw, revealing rows of sharp teeth and Sarevok's face. And this was the first time Bjorn had a good look at his eyes. A bright, golden color, similar to his. A common trait amongst those that have a deity as one of their parents. Sarevok chuckled a dark, sinister laugh, devoid of passion.

"One of the servant races? I was not expecting just you in the slightest. Are you my brother's secret plan to stop me?" boomed an echoing voice. Bjorn fought every instinct to cover his ears, but now the element of surprise was lost, no thanks to Tiax. He and the rest of the group stepped out from behind the column.

"The rest of them are cowards, perfectly suited to lick Tiax's boots when he rules. Cyric will be appeased when Tiax slays you while the others stand idly by, suspended by fear!"

Sarevok ignored the gnome, looking straight at Bjorn, and he stepped down from the dais. "Little brother...You are indeed family. No other could have lived to oppose me in person. Of course, it will not matter in the end. Ultimately I will prevail, and a new era will be born unto the Realms."

"B-b-but, what do you have to gain by starting a war with Amn? Did the Bhaal essence tell you to start a war? But if there's one thing you must know, Bhaal deceives. He lies. Even if you bring him back, you think you'll ascend with him? He'll just toss you aside like every other evil deity does with their servants when they have outlived their usefulness!"

"HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAA! Fool! Do you know nothing of what you speak of? I don't wish to bring Bhaal back, I wish to raise his power! War with Amn would bring about death on a massive scale! The slaughter I will orchestrate will prove me to be his most worthy successor!" he shouted, quite madly.

"Then... then I must end your life to stop your mad scheme it seems," said Bjorn, unsheathing his own longsword from his belt. The rest of his allies did the same with their weapons, a mixture of swords, daggers, clubs, and crossbows.

"Yes... Do just as your blood desires. I am far too strong for you. All of you. By my will and my blade, I will have what I desire, and once your death comes, your essence will flow into me, granting me far more power than I have now," he motioned Bjorn forward with a wave of his hand. "So come to me, little brother! Come to your brother! Face me! Face the NEW LORD OF MURDER! Angelo! Tazok! Semaj! Reveal yourselves! Let's finish this now once and for all!"

The candles on the columns burned with increased flame, bathing the room in a wave of orange light, revealing three other figures in the darkness: Tazok, the ogre that they had met at the bandit camp in the Wood of Sharp Teeth; Angelo, the human that had taken over the Baldur's Gate Flaming Fist police force after the death of Scar and the poisoning of his superior, Duke Eltan; and Semaj, one of the mages that had teleported Sarevok out of the Duchal Palace just as he was about to be crowned Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate.

"Hold! Beware the dead god's symbol! There be traps all over it!" shouted Montaron.

"Excellent job, Monty!"

And with Xzar's congratulatory remark, the battle began, with Sarevok's mage summoning a horde, at least 15, of skeletons that seemed to rise out of the ground, eye sockets glowing a bright orange and each armed with a sword or mace. Faldorn, Xzar, and Xan retaliated with their own spells, waving their glowing-blue arms impeccably fast and muttering ancient incantations. When they finished, a small army of wolves and goblins appeared right in the middle of the skeletons. It had taken only a second for that area to deteriorate into a mess of wolf whines and the breaking of bones.

Semaj raised another horde of skeletons right in front of Bjorn and his allies, and they suddenly found themselves fighting back with sword and club and dagger, with Xzar, Xan, and Garrick behind the rest of the group, with the two mages preparing another spell and Garrick plucking an enchanted lyre that seemed to focus the minds of his allies in the heat of battle. Bjorn easily sidestepped a basic impaling attack by a skeleton's sword, and brought his sword down on it's arm, tearing it off. Out the corner of his eye, Bjorn could see Sarevok and Tazok just standing there, as if waiting to see if they would survive the skeleton army that had been summoned. And the last member of Sarevok's group, Angelo, was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh no! Run from the exploding arrows, lest you meet your DOOM!" shouted Xan, already fleeing towards the door of the temple.

Exploding arrows?

That's when Bjorn spotted Angelo behind one of the columns on Sarevok's side of the temple, letting loose an arrow right into the crowd of skeletons they were fighting.

"Tiax will rule all! ... eh, from a distance," shouted Tiax, running away from the horde of skeletons and the arrow. Shar-Teel, Faldorn, and the others did the same, and it was just Bjorn, surrounded by skeletons. Fortunately, most of them couldn't even pierce his armor, but the arrow certainly would do a bit more than the skeletons could. Bjorn crouched down low, putting his shield over his head and waited for the flames.

Montaron dashed from one column to the next. It actually wasn't necessary that he run from behind one column to the next one, since the potion he swallowed made him invisible, but his target was certainly a dangerous one. Montaron had heard Xan's cry and immediately knew what he had to do. Unlike the rest of the group, who fled in fear, Montaron was going to save their hides.

Amateurs. He was working with amateurs.

After passing the second to last column, he caught a glimpse of the carnage the arrow had done. It had struck one of the skeletons in the side of the head, exploding in a massive fireball that annihilated the rest of the skeletons and flung Bjorn the length of an ogre's height towards the door to the temple. Luckily, Faldorn and Tiax were there, already praying to their dieties for healing. Good, at least those two weren't totally useless.

Passing the last column, that's when Montaron found himself face to face with Angelo. Or rather, face to back. The unkempt halfling wasted no opportunity, thrusting his short sword into the lower back of Angelo's crimson tunic. Angelo cried out in pain, falling to the ground on his stomach and clutching at the wound in his back. Montaron stepped on his back, wrapped his hand around his mouth, brought his blade around across his neck, and gruffly whispered into his ear.

"Ye should have watched yer back." And with that, Montaron pulled the blade up and severed Angelo's head. One down, three more to go.

Montaron watched the head roll a foot away, and caught a glimpse of Sarevok glaring straight at him. Montaron grinned, then turned and ran behind the columns back towards the group.

He couldn't hear much from Sarevok, except, "Come Tazok. They appear to be a little more skilled than I had previously thought."

By now the first of Semaj's skeletons and the horde of animals and goblins that Bjorn's allies had conjured had all but whittled down to the last few of each, corpses strewn about the area. Xzar and Xan were now firing spell after spell, magic missiles and acid arrows, at Semaj on the other side, who seemed to be protected by a diamond-shaped blue shield that dissipated every spell that struck it. Xzar clicked his teeth in anger. Semaj was certainly a master of the arcane arts, and no mage knows how to better defend themselves than from another mage, or two even.

But what about one that isn't a spellcaster? It was time to test Semaj's power against such a theory, thought Xzar. He grinned, deviously, a smile cleaving his dark, tattooed face in half.

"Ah yes, sad one. That is a strictly magical shield, right?" asked Xzar to Xan.

Xan just finished launching another Melf's acid arrow spell that bounced harmlessly on Semaj's shield. He never stopped staring at the enemy mage.

"Aye it is. And us being mere apprentices of the arcane arts, makes us rather insignificant, does it not?" moaned Xan dourly.

"Lighten up! Must you be so moody all the time? I have an idea. Pick up that sword."

Xan's voice picked up hysterically. "Need I remind you, insane one, that we practice magic and not swordplay?!? You really must try to use your head!"

Xzar eyebrows arched in anger, and for a moment, an insane, sparkly glint. "Be that way, you melancholy idiot. The rabbits will NEVER SEE THIS COMING!!!"

With that, Xzar charged Semaj as fast as his green robe would allow him to. Semaj himself was preparing another spell; one Xzar knew immediately from the arcane words he spoke. Lightning bolt. Three steps steps away. The mad wizard lowered his torso, preparing to tackle the Semaj before his spell could be finished. Two steps away.

Almost finished! One step left! He's on the last syllable!!!

Xzar closed his eyes. DAMN THOSE RABBITS! DAMN THEM STRAIGHT TO THE HELLS!!!

Then something collided into his head, causing a shocking pain. But not from the lightning bolt, but from Xzar's head ramming into the rib cage of Semaj. The enemy mage had finished his spell, but the collision by Xzar had sent his arms pointing upwards, launching the lightning bolt into the darkness of the temple ceiling. Semaj tumbled to the ground, with Xzar sitting on his stomach and his knees wrapped around Semaj's abdomen. Semaj looked up blankly at the insane mage, having become unaware of where he was. Xzar's head darted back and forth for something... anything... and that's when he found it. Xzar reached to his left and picked up the skull of one of the very skeletons that Semaj had summoned, raising the skull above his head with both hands.

"And he shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pit!" screamed Xzar, and brought the skull down furiously upon Semaj's head, causing a crack within one of the skulls. Whose skull cracked, Xzar didn't care.

"When I said use your head, that wasn't quite what I had in mind. But come; the others need out help...You know, we may actually have a chance," said Xan, smiling for the first time anybody had seen.

With Montaron having disappeared to kill Angelo and Xzar and Xan to take on Semaj, there was just the five of them: Bjorn, Shar-Teel, Faldorn, Tiax, and Garrick, to take on Sarevok and Tazok. And all that Garrick could do was play that enchanted instrument and work as a decent shot with a crossbow. He will have a place in Tiax's palace one day... but only as the court jester at best!

"I'll take my step brother alone. Tiax and Faldorn. Back us up with whatever prayers and chants you have," said Bjorn, and no one else seemed to terribly shook up about his decision or orders. Even Tiax was a little afraid of Sarevok, though his over-zealous conviction to Cyric gave him more courage than most men had a right to. Bjorn stepped to the left of the group and motioned the spiky, armored Sarevok with his blade. Tiax could almost see Sarevok grin behind his demon-shaped helmet.

Shar-Teel stepped in front of the eight foot ogre, Tazok, only a few steps away. She had her sword and shield out, ready to take on Tazok's own crude, yet insanely large blade.

"HAH! A little girl wishes to play? Let's do this!" said Tazok, spittle flying out his mouth into Shar-Teel's unflinching face.

"Hm. How would you like my sword tickling your innards?" she smiled.

"Let's test that possibility," he grunted. With that, the ogre swung impossibly fast with his blade in a wide, horizontal arc that left the female warrior with barely enough time to deflect with her own sword. The force of the blow pushed her to the ground on her back, with a low chuckle emanating from Tazok. She quickly jumped up, preparing herself for the next blow.

"What are you idiots waiting for? Start your prayers!" she hissed behind her.

"Hah! When Tiax rules, you will not be allowed to speak to him thus. Fortunately for you, Tiax happens to be in a benevolent moo--"

"Quiet yourself, gnome, and get to work!" urged Faldorn next to him, already starting her prayers to the Oak Father, Silvanus. Tiax merely grunted in reply, cursing both of them silently. He will squash them both for their insolence when he rules... But sometime after he finishes his blessing.

Shar-Teel took the initiative of the moment, sliding forward and thrusting her sword towards the ogre's stomach. Tazok swung his own blade and easily smacked hers aside, throwing her off balance. Tazok took advantage, bringing the blade back around in a wide arc, and Shar-Teel barely managed to avoid being severed in half by raising her shield up in time. The last hit with the sword knocked Shar-Teel down on her back. Tazok forced his sword downwards,hoping to impale her, narrowly missing her torso when she rolled to the side. Tazok continued his brutal attack on top of her, with the female warrior's only chance was to roll.

Just As Tiax's prayer was finishing up and he could feel Cyric's dark power... and even the little power of Faldorn's tree-hugging deity, he noticed that depressed elf, Xan, approaching Tazok from behind, with his right hand glowing a deep scarlet red color. Xan merely touched the ogre on the back, and Tazok, sunk to his knees, injured by the ghastly life-draining touch Xan had delivered. No sooner had Tazok kneeled then he whipped his left fist behind him, knocking the elf off his feet, right towards the trapped symbol of Bhaal behind him.

"Oh no!" gasped Garrick, who had dropped the enchanted lyre he had been playing.

Xan's body hit the ground, sliding along the ground towards the symbol and merely passed over it, stopping right on top of Bhaal's grinning skull. And nothing. No poisoned arrows, no lightning bolts, no nothing. Tiax swore to himself there had been traps there, and to be honest, he was kind of hoping they'd go off. All that elf did was complain rather than contribute to the good of the party anyways. Tiax was far more handy to have around. And--

A female groan woke Tiax from his wandering self-centered thoughts. Tazok had his sword deep into Shar-Teel's chest on the ground. The female warrior had raised her sword up in an attempt to impale Tazok in the last moments of her life, but just as she raised her blade up, he hand faltered in weakness, and she slumped, lifeless. And while their leader Bjorn was engaged in battle with Sarevok, there was no warrior to stand up to the ogre, Tazok. Or was there?

"Oh, for the sake of Cyric," mumbled Tiax.

He pulled out a purple vial from a pouch that hung from his girdle. The purple vial read "Deus Ex Machina." He wasn't sure what it meant, but it sounded foreign and good. He had picked it up when he had taken his self-ascending prophecies about ruling the world to the fair down in Nashkel a few months back. The gnome selling the potion said that it granted the strength of a God, nothing more. And who could resist such an offer?

"Eh, Tiax, are you sure... that potion... I studied alchemy awhile back, and it looks unfamiliar," said Garrick.

"Nonsense! You doubters get in the way of every miracle! Tiax knows what he is doing! This'll work in our favor!"

"Whatever you do, do it quick. Tazok is coming!" urged Faldorn. And indeed he was, only ten paces away from them.

"Don't do it!" begged Garrick.

But too late, Tiax had already downed the contents of the little vial. It was very thick, like cream, and tasted like grapes. Tiax's eyes widened at the sudden boost of power. He suddenly felt great strength; the like of which that he had never felt before! It was incredible! The iron mace in his hand, which always felt a little heavy before, was now incredibly light. In fact, he hardly knew it was there.

"There's no time left, Tiax!" shouted Garrick.

"Quit your complaining! HAHAHAHAHAAAA!" shouted Tiax, quite madly. "Time waits for no man. Unless that man is Tiax!!!!"

Just as Tazok was just about to swing his blade and lop off Tiax's head, the mad gnome swung his mace as hard as his newfound strength and connected with Tazok's knee. Usually, the knee typical bends anywhere from straight up the leg to a forward position, and is usually responsible for supporting the rest of the body above it. Not so with Tazok any longer. The force at which Tiax's blow struck his knee forced the joints to go into the other direction, sending Tazok onto his back, roaring in pain. Tiax clambered up on top of the chest of Tazok, who was too busy with the sudden pain in his right knee to pay attention to the gnome standing on his chest. Tiax raised his mace up high.

"None stand where Tiax stands, lest Tiax walk atop them!" With that, Tiax brought the mace down impossibly fast repeatedly, smashing Tazok's face into the other side of his head.

Sarevok was tough, and that was an understatement. Bjorn had motioned for the spiky armored warrior to fight him and him alone. He hadn't been sure why or how, but he could somehow feel that destiny was on his side. Regardless, Sarevok was an imposing figure whose intimidation increased with every step that Sarevok had taken to get closer. Bjorn had chosen to wear merely leather armor against Sarevok. He had seen Sarevok fight a few times previously, when he killed Bjorn's foster father and when his scheme to have dopplegangers assassinate the Dukes of Baldur's Gate at his own coronation failed, and what he had in power and defense, he lost in speed and agility.

However, after several quick strikes, it didn't seem like Bjorn's enchanted sword would go through Sarevok's dark platemail. The only way would be to get it in between the links of the armor. And it certainly wasn't easy when your enemy could likely sever you in half without thinking. Bjorn had been mainly ducking or leaping and rolling to the side to avoid Sarevok's sword, being barely able to get in a few strikes with his own blade.

"None stand where Tiax stands, lest Tiax walk atop them!" shouted Tiax, smashing Tazok's face to a bloody pulp with his mace.

After another roll, that's when Bjorn finally looked and noticed that Angelo, Semaj, and Tazok had all been killed at the hands of his members. Xan lay unmoving in the middle of the Bhaal symbol. And one of his own had perished for sure. Shar-Teel. She had been--

Agh! Sarevok's blade swiped along the side of Bjorn's abdomen, feeling almost like his innards were on fire. Bjorn leaped backwards several times, his other hand patting the wound instinctively as if to put out the fire in his side. So busy Bjorn was with just trying to keep the wound from burning that he hadn't notice that Sarevok had stopped pursuing him. Bjorn hurriedly took out the last healing potion in his pack, a small flask filled with blue liquid and gulped it down, feeling a icy chill where the wound was. He could feel the wound closing together, almost as if an invisible deity was sowing up the wound. He breathed a sigh of relief before he heard it.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

The young warrior looked up to see Tiax being held up off the ground by Sarevok's sword stabbing through his back. Sarevok raised his sword vertically and the gnome slid down to the hilt, coating Sarevok's sword with blood. With a grunt, the armored warrior swung his sword forward and Tiax slid off the sword, flying towards one of the columns on the right side of the temple.

"Ccccuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrssssssssseeeeeeess--" screamed Tiax before slapping into the floor next to the column. He made no sound after that.

"The death of that one was inevitable, but no more of that. Oak Father, protect me!" hissed Faldorn, armed with her club.

"I... I suppose I should feel a sense of loss... how unfortunate..." muttered Xzar, then grinning deviously, "I don't care!"

"You bastard!" shouted Bjorn, running after Sarevok waving his sword. Okay, so Bjorn didn't particularly like the gnome, though his mischievous delusions certainly served as some sort of amusement on this journey.

"I do not fear death, brother. Do you?" muttered Sarevok, readying his sword for the charging attack of Faldorn and Bjorn.

Just then, a mere shadow sped out from behind the columns, armed with a short sword. Bjorn couldn't mistake that scruffy halfling's face from anywhere. Montaron jumped up onto Sarevok's back and impaled him with his sword in between where the back plate meets the helmet. Sarevok shouted angrily, whipping around and swinging the halfling side to side, before spinning his sword around and stabbing Montaron through. The halfling immediately let go and slumped to the ground, creating a pool of blood where he laid.

"Mon...Montaron!" screeched Xzar. "I... I never loved you!"

Faldorn and Bjorn reached Sarevok just than, stabbing and clubbing on his armor, though it appeared to do no damage to it. Sarevok, treating them as if they had been mere mosquitos, spun around and swung his blade, catching Faldorn in her side. Her only protection had been the shredded robes of her Shadow Druid cult, and was therefore, little protection. Faldorn grunted and bent over, clutching at her wound. She was swinging wildly with her club, though it was quite obvious that there was little chance for her at this point. Sarevok raised his right leg, which Bjorn noticed a spike on the knee, and kneed the devout Shadow Druid in the face, knocking her on her back. Her entire face was was a bloody mess.

They... They couldn't win! Sarevok had just managed to kill three of them in a matter of seconds! Tiax, Montaron, and now Faldorn! It was just he, Xzar, and Garrick! And Garrick couldn't do anything too useful offensively. There was only one way to do it for sure.

"Xzar! Haste!" shouted Bjorn. He heard the mad necromancer chanting the arcane spell immediately.

Sarevok swung his blade at Bjorn, which Bjorn barely deflected with his sword, and much like what happened to Tazok and Shar-Teel, threw the young warrior onto his back, knocking the wind out of him. Bjorn coughed several times before he realized where he was and saw Sarevok's sword attempt to impale him. That's when he felt it. A sudden surge of energy in his muscles and after just trying to instinctively get away from his enemy's blade, he found himself standing up next to Sarevok. It had been the haste spell, speeding up his movements twice as fast. And with that, Bjorn ran over to where Xzar and Garrick were. Xzar, armed with only his skull-hilted dagger, and Garrick, with a crossbow, were hasted as well.

"Run!"

Neither questioned. Both followed Bjorn as he ran around the Bhaal holy symbol and to the other side where Sarevok had first stood when they entered the temple.

"Garrick."

"Yes, sir?" he asked upbeatedly, though the beading sweat on his forehead said otherwise.

"Pepper him with your crossbow," insisted Bjorn.

"With joy, sir."

"And Xzar?" asked Bjorn. Xzar was too buys staring down at the floor. Bjorn reached out and tapped him on the arm.

"STOP TOUCHING MEEEEEE!" he screeched in his high-pitched voice, clutching at his arm, even causing Bjorn to jump.

"Errr... Toss whatever spell you can throw at him. Magic missile, skull trap, acid arrow, the works."

"Of course; I could do no other," he said back in his regular, aristocratic voice. Xzar began waving his arms around quickly and chanting, creating a pink energy ball in the middle of his motions. It took only a few seconds to finish and the magic missile divided into five separate missiles and shot at the slow moving Sarevok who was lumbering around the symbol of Bhaal in the middle. However, when they struck his armor, the spells merely dissipated and fizzled into smoke.

"Ha! I am immune to all your magics!"

"Damn... say... let's start running again," muttered Bjorn, already turning tail and sprinting.

Garrick, always light on his feet, ran ahead of the young warrior in his hastened state, carrying his crossbow in a ready to fire position, and that's when Bjorn had an idea. But he had to get it right, at just the right moment and time.

"Fire!" shouted Bjorn, grabbing hold of Garrick's arm, spinning him around. Garrick, eyes widened in sudden fright, pulled the trigger and let loose a bolt at the target. If Bjorn had done it correctly, it would hit Sarevok for sure, though he doubted that it would pierce his armor. But, he hoped that the armor wasn't what it would hit anyways.

"AAAHHH!" shouted Sarevok, the bolt piercing through the opening in his helm and into his face. The dark fighter immediately pulled the bolt from his face and tossed it to the ground, can continued his pursuit.

"Let's try one more time," said Garrick. Bjorn concurred, and just as he turned to run again, he noticed he didn't have the same speed any longer. In fact, he had just gone back to regular speed, as had Xzar and Garrick. Needing time to adjust back to their old speed, all three tripped to the ground, Garrick on the bottom, followed by Bjorn, and then Xzar laying on top of them, a pile of limbs.

"Hurry! He who aligns himself with the rabbits is coming!" urged Xzar in fear. Scrambling on their feet, it didn't occur to them just how fast Sarevok had caught up to them, ready to cut them all down. Sarevok's sword did not reach his step-brother, fortunately during the scramble, but it found someone else instead.

Garrick limped away from the fleeing Xzar and Bjorn, clutching at the hole in his shoulder. The blade had gone clean through, a trail of blood already dripping down to his feet.

"Brave brave, Sir Garrick! Sir Garrick led the way! Brave brave, Sir Garrick! Sir Garrick ran away!" shouted Garrick in tune to an old tavern song.

Damn! He's not going to make it!

Bjorn looked behind his shoulder just in time to see Garrick turn around and face Sarevok, gasping. Sarevok impaled him through the chest this time, and Garrick's small frame immediately went jumped in fright before going limp. He could see Garrick's face, caught in a perpetual image of fear and surprise in his last moments. Bjorn turned back around to see that Xzar had already stopped and turned around.

"Wh-- What are... you doing?" Bjorn asked, out of breath.

A mad glint in his eyes and a demonic smile answered that question, but Bjorn would have still liked to have heard an answer. Xzar pulled a tattered parchment out of one of the pockets of his green robe. Bjorn looked over his shoulders and was surprised to find that the scroll was entirely in the Common tongue, as opposed to some long lost Netherese language that nobody but the dead spoke anymore. Holding the parchment in both hands, Xzar read the incantation.

"You may be a king or a little street sweeper, but sooner or later you dance with the REAPER! HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!"

With the end of the maniacal laughter, the parchment dissipated into a dusty cloud, being replaced by a floating, green orb of energy that seemed to spin at an impossibly fast speed. Faster and faster it spun, creating a gale that made the insane necromancer's robes whip back and forth, and even caused Bjorn to lose balance. With Sarevok only a few paces away, Xzar let loose the orb with an inhuman scream and it blasted into Sarevok's armor. It collided with such force as to create a green, fiery explosion and ending with a green fog that covered the entire temple. Bjorn squinted in the cloud and could barely make out the form of Xzar, despite being only a foot away from him. All was silent, bar the gassy sound of the cloud.

As the cloud began to fade away, Bjorn could see Xzar grinning at him through the cloud. Bjorn couldn't help but smile back at the mage.

"Did we do it?" asked Bjorn in a whisper, as if Sarevok was still alive in the room.

Xzar paused before speaking in a childish, feminine voice. "Mommy... I don't feel so good..."

At first, it was just Xzar's face that he could see, as his green robes camouflaged with the cloud, but as the fog was waning, Bjorn could make out a distinct pointed object through Xzar's stomach, and the armored figure of Sarevok standing behind him. Sarevok ripped the sword out, leaving the necromancer collapsing to the ground.

It was just him. Bjorn was all that was left now. Well, Xan also, but he was unconscious. All his allies and friends had protected him and died for him... Without much other thought but vengeance, Bjorn attacked, bringing his sword down in an amazingly quick stroke onto Sarevok's shoulder, not sure what he hoped to accomplish by it. But like his friends... Like Xzar, Garrick, Faldorn, Montaron, Tiax, Shar-Teel... they had died with nobility and honor, despite whether they had lived their lives the same way. And Bjorn couldn't just live as a coward up to his death, could he?

Just as his sword contacted with Sarevok's armor, Bjorn had expected it to stop there. But strangely enough, it hadn't. His sword seemed to have gone right through his armor and into Sarevok's flesh, Bjorn stopping his sword in surprise as it simply sat in Sarevok's chest. Bjorn let go, stepping back and his hands trembling that he had just killed the man that was responsible for everything that had happened. It was all over. Sarevok had stopped as well, surprised that he, the next Lord of Murder, was dying at the hands of his own stepbrother who was armed with, ironically, a weapon made up of the very iron he had tried to control. Bjorn looked up from the still blade and into Sarevok's eyes. They were cold and emotionless, but Bjorn could see just a hint of sadness and anger at his loss of destiny. Then he spoke one last time:

"It seems Destiny is a rather capricious mistress, isn't she?"

Sarevok smiled, before his eyes rolled back into his head and the dark warrior fell backwards onto the stone ground, denting the ancient floor of the Bhaal temple beneath him. Bjorn took a step to see if his stepbrother's life had truly ended. Looking at his face, Sarevok's corpse began to dissolve into tiny, orange speckles, revealing the sinewy muscles underneath his skin and the skull the lay behind them. The speckles gathered above his corpse and spread into the darkness of the temple, leaving nothing but Sarevok's armor and dropped sword.

Bjorn stared at his armor for what seemed like forever. Could Sarevok have been saved? What if Sarevok had been raised by Gorion, instead of me? Would I have ended up as he had? But that can't be... Sarevok had made his own choices in the end...

Hadn't he?

"We've... won?" muttered a voice from nearby. Bjorn looked up to see Xan, standing in the middle of the symbol of Bhaal. Xan's left side of his face had swelled from when Tazok had punched him, but he seemed okay, regardless.

"Yes, Xan. We've won," said Bjorn quietly.

"That's funny. I did not see that outcome in the slightest. Though I see our companions did not fare as well," said Xan, taking in all the corpses in the room.

"Not quite!" came another voice from below Bjorn. Xzar was laying down at Bjorn's feet, his hand bloody from covering the wound in his stomach. Seeing Xzar reminded Bjorn of a question.

"What spell did you cast on Sarevok?"

"Well, my friend, that was a rare scroll that I picked up when we invaded Sarevok's Iron Throne tower. I figured that since our armored friend was the one responsible for all this mess, should anybody figure out his plan, it would not bode well for him to still be breathing. So he needed defenses against any possible enemies, be they his own superiors or noble heroes like yourself. When I found the scroll, I figured it would be a good idea to save it for this very instance, and lucky us, I guessed right. Why are you looking at me funny?"

Bjorn hadn't even realized that he had been staring at Xzar as if he was a madman with a rather flimsy grasp on sanity.

"You... thought of that?"

"Of course! I'm not stupid!" snapped Xzar. Then his tone switched to calm. "Oh yeah, I think I still have a hole in my innards. Could you be a dear and do something about that?"

Bjorn sighed. There were no potions left, and neither he nor Xan knew anything about healing magic. The only ones that did were Faldorn and Tiax. And they had both perished in the battle. What could be done exactly?

"We... don't have any healing left."

"Ah... How unfortunate. Are you sure the nature frolicking she-witch and that god complexed Cyricist are both deceased."

"Positive," said Bjorn, looking at the corpse of Faldorn and then the corpse of Tiax, who was sitting along the column he had lain near... Wait. Tiax hadn't hit the column... He had to have moved there on his own. Bjorn rushed over to where Tiax was leaning against the column, eyes closed. Bjorn hunched over and began patting the face of the mad gnome with his hands, trying to wake him up.

"C'mon Tiax... Wake the hell up. C'mon... c'mon c'mon c'mon..." With the last slap rather forceful, Tiax opened his eyes alertly.

"Who dares prod Tiax!?!" shouted the gnome, some spit flying into Bjorn's face.

YES!! There's a chance!

"Tiax! We need you to heal everyone as well as you can! If you can raise everybody from the dead, even better!"

"Well... you did allow Tiax to almost die. However, Cyric did say to protect you all from harm, and when the time came, Tiax would be able to save you all from death."

"So... you'll do it?"asked Xan, still standing in the middle of Bhaal's holy symbol. After all, were he to move, he would no doubt be victim to a trap.

"Of course. Now lead Tiax to these stiff-rumped fools that were too weak and should never have been born for dying so easily."


End file.
